Darkened Skies
by GantuShmantu
Summary: Minato gave his life for those who had lost the joy living, and for that reason S.E.E.S said to move on and enjoy life. But what if he hadn't been the first choice to be the Great Seal? Can this youth atone for what he has done? And how would such news change S.E.E.S. views on his death? Please enjoy and i hope you read, comment, and review.
1. Darkened Skies

**Persona Story Idea: Minato Arisato gave his life in order to seal Nyx and prevent the devastation of mankind, but what if he wasn't supposed to ever do such a thing? What very few people know is that there was another persona-user whom refused to sign the contract, and henceforth placed the duty of "the Seal" onto another when the time of desperation came. Now that some time has passed, it appears that trouble is brewing once more for Port Island and this man is the only one who can keep the now separated S.E.E.S. safe from harm. Can he manage to own up to what he did wrong, and pay the debt for his own misdeeds.**

You know, it isn't always easy being the one on the outer edge of everything. There's always that one guy who never really seems to want to have any real interaction with others, that one person who rarely talks and keeps to themselves to the point of insanity. Unfortunately though, that person would happen to be me, right down to a tee. I haven't been like this forever though, trust me, I'm not a schizoid or something or other but I have never wished to be near others. To really comprehend why I am the way I am would take a bit of time, seeing as it all started ten years or so ago, and has slowly seemed to perpetuate over time until the way things are now. Every up until this point has been a prerequisite to the present day, and it all began in my hometown of Lunarvale; it wasn't really a town as much as it was a rather sizable city, but you get the expression.

My parents and I had been moving around quite a bit the last how many years, and this time around my dad had forcefully put his foot down at work over how he would resign if he had to relocate ever again. He was always the busiest of the family, with being a civil servant and all, it made him constantly have to ensure that his belongings were easily portable and not too deeply rooted to one town or province. My mother on the other hand was a little more of the opposite, as she had been out of work for awhile and because of this we often just thought of her as a stay-at-home mother; she was very supportive though, and would always hear from my father about how we needed to move to such-and-such place and would never let it discourage her sunny disposition. I'll never forget the smile that she had on her face when she heard the news that Lunarvale was going to be our anchor, I was only eight or nine at the time but when I saw it, it was if the weight of the world had been lifted off of her.

It wasn't a really tough move for any of us for obvious reasons, and we had only taken a week or so to get adjusted into the apartment complex where we would be staying. I remember that week when we first moved into the place as clear as if it had just happened yesterday, my father sat me down for a moment once we got all of the boxes in. He said that he had something he had wanted to give to me as thanks for understanding his own hardships from work and knowing the difficulties that he had brought about. Lazily he sat down on one of the boxes as he looked me square in the eye with a look that would make even the saddest of souls smile. His voice was a bit raspy, as to be expected from someone who had smoked for the majority of his life, as he reached into his left pants pocket and beheld a small, yet odd object in his hand.

"_Look around you, because this is gonna be our home. And that's why I want you to do something for me, son. Can you promise me something?"_

I shook my head in response to his question without much a thought; I always thought there had been someone averse about why he had taken me aside for this, although now that I think about it later in life it was understandable for me to. When I looked down at what he was holding I saw that it had been some sort of small origami made out of what appeared to be a rather high-quality construction paper. The color of the paper itself was a mess, with seemingly every color imaginable having been painted onto it with a great amount of discipline and care. I remember telling myself that this must have been some sort of keepsake, but that still didn't explain why my father had kept it and why he would wish to pass it onto me either. Most of this time while I had been pondering, he had spent muttering to himself as his eyes were fixated on the object, as if he himself had been struggling to find the words.

"_We're a family, and we always will be. We protect one another but…there's something that you should know. There's something that I need to know. If anything ever happened to me, can you keep your mother safe?"_

Again I simply shook my head, but this time I couldn't help but notice that he was becoming fairly nervous as he began to periodically look away towards a window on the far side of the apartment. He then handed me the origami figure that he had been so infatuated with a moment ago and it was then that I could tell that it was made to mimic a butterfly. That only that, but the paper had felt so unbelievable withered that I had feared tearing it if I wasn't careful how I held it. Nothing much else happened after that, besides us unpacking the entirety of our belongings before we decided it was time for me to get to bed. I asked him a couple of times after that day how he got it, but he never would answer me and instead would only dance around the subject. After that the next couple of months just seemed to coalesce into one static blur; I started school up again, we got to go and see some of the interesting sights, and we even managed to adopt a pet cat from one of the local shelters. But that was then, before my beautiful home became a true to life recreation of hell itself, when my life changed forever.

It had started out like any other ordinary day, my dad had just left at around seven or so in the morning for work and my mother was busy seeing him off as well as getting me ready for school. Unlike most days where he had simply left with a quick kind word today, he left us with a large hug that seemed as if he never intended on letting either of us go. Stranger yet, once he left my mother must have said that she loved me a dozen times before she handed me my book bag and I began to make my way towards the schoolyard. The air was still that day and the clouds had darkened to the point of not just blotting out the sun, but to the point of making distinguishing night from day nearly impossible. As I continued onward I approached the schoolyard and was nearly at the entrance when a loud, earth-shattering noise resonated from inside the school itself. At the time I had no idea what on earth could have caused such a peculiar sound, but what I do remember is that an aura of dread hit me as soon as I entered the front gates.

The inside of the school was an enter mess; there were papers thrown all about, several windows had been broken by something, a foul stench was seeping into the air, and the hallways themselves that broke off from the entrance were completely abandoned. No teachers, no students, not a single soul was in that school from what I could see, but none the less I could swear that I was being watched. Worse yet, I could also swear that I was beginning to loose my mind as well as I went deeper, determined to at least find anyone who could tell me what was going on and calm my fears. As I rounded the one corner near the cafeteria I heard a soft moan followed by a shrill growl come from just a few feet away. Looking forward I saw what was making the unsettling noise I had been hearing, and what I saw was something that I could never have been prepared for in a million years. Standing there before for me as I rounded the corner was no ferocious monstrosity, but rather a pale-skinned young man who had not seemed all that much older than I was at the time.

What he had been wearing was no more than a plain, white robe which covered most of his body; his back had still been turned however, there was no doubt in my mind that he was aware of my presence. As if taken right out of a scene from a scary movie, he ever so slowly turned around to face me and reveal something that only further served to unnerve and confuse me. The first thing had been that his face seemed strikingly younger than the rest of his body suggested, as if it hadn't ever aged a day, and furthermore his demeanor was entirely unusual for something in the situation that he was in. When I faced him I kept trying to tell myself that he was just a new student or something, but thinking back none of it made any sense; his bizarre clothing, his nonchalant approach to walking around in a ransacked and abandoned school, not to mention the way his eyes seemed to just stare directly at you as if looking beyond oneself…as if looking into the soul of a person instead.

Those eyes alone were enough to make this day unforgettable, as they made me both uncomfortable and at ease at the same time. He had continued to stare at me for quite some time before he started to become fixated at a certain item that I had hanging around my neck by a lanyard: my father's origami butterfly. Upon making eye-contact with the trinket he began to smile as he finally began to speak in what was, much like his face, a pitch which could best be described as that of a child's. I remember that something about the aura he gave off as he spoke was as if he existed away from everything around you, and that while he might seem naïve he was still capable of aggressive force.

"_Hello there, I've been waiting for you for some time. Sorry to make such a mess out of your school. I thought it would be better if we spoke alone."_

At the time my mind was racing with questions and I wasn't entirely sure he in the mood to be giving anything out so I hadn't bothered to ask, or maybe it had been my fear. The man could see me shaking a little and made an effort to ensure that he meant no harm to me and that all he wished was to speak with me. Motioning with his right hand for me to come over to him, he used his left to retrieve an enormous book seemingly out of thin air of which he then presented to me. From a distance it looked to be ancient to say the least, and upon further inspection I could notice several titles and subtitles inscribed onto the cover in a language that I still to this very day cannot understand. The young man opened the book and blew a thick layer of dust off of the page of which he had opened to, which from where I had been standing looked to be entirely blank except for one line with the caption of _signatus_ beside it. The only word I had been capable of deciphering out of it all had been that of the word signature, I always wondered where Latin would come in handy in my day-to-day. Knowing this one word seemed to make sense out of that one page at least; however, I looked up shortly afterwards with a flabbergasted expression, as if to beg the question of why he would need my signature.

"_It's alright, it's just a contract. You know…just saying that you'll take responsibility for your own actions…the usual stuff. All you need to do is sign on the line at the bottom."_

I think it's safe to say that I didn't really question his order as well, but that is just the nature of most children at that age. One man once said that children were "supposed to be seen, not heard." I always felt that my duty was to do right by my mother and father by obeying their each and every order in hopes of making their lives easier, but because of most people becoming creatures of such habits this ended up being my response to more than just my parents. Because of this flaw of mine I grabbed a pencil out of my pocket and began to jot down my name beside the line of which he had mentioned prior, without so much a care of what he had been expecting when he said I would "take responsibility for my own actions." Once completed, he held the old tome up close to his face as if it pained him to try and read from a distance, and then smiled once again. This time though his smile was less of a gleeful expression as it had been before, but rather it appeared as if something about my name itself had been the reason for his amusement. At this, something finally snapped inside me and I felt a burning desire to respond to his somewhat rude reaction; most likely this is because it appeared as if he was trying to make his way towards a nearby exit.

"_Wait…who are you…?" _

He didn't answer me, no matter how many times I asked him; I felt tempted to give chase towards where he had exited, but as soon as I was about to a familiar scream blared into my eardrums. This time it was coming from outside the school, but the pitch and volume of it alone was enough to make me think that my ears were about to bleed. It was obvious at this moment that there were more important things that I had to attend to, so I decided to head back home to try and meet up with mom and dad. _'There's no way with all of this craziness going on that their still being kept at work'_ I thought as I started out of the school lobby and onto my long trek home. Not much time had to pass before I could tell that something had gone awfully wrong within the city itself, and that whatever I had that caused all of that insanity at school had spread its swath of destruction towards home. There had been countless people lying on the sides of the roadways, most of them trying to get a signal out on their phones to law enforcement or anyone who would listen, and it took me until I had gotten home to realize what had been having a field day in the city of Lunarvale. For, once I reached the apartment complex I could see the front door hanging on by a thread, followed by what astonishingly enough looked to be burn marks on the exterior of the property. With that, my heart began to skip a beat.

We had only lived on the second floor, so anything that managed to get inside and cause the degree of damage I had been seeing so far must have gotten upstairs with ease. '_No…don't think like that' _I remembered telling myself as I approached the front door and grabbed a hold of the sorry shambles that remained. Needless to say my theory was correct, as the door broke off its hinges as soon as I applied even the slightest amount of force to it. On the inside the place didn't look much better than my school had looked awhile ago, and the innards of my humble abode were just as disheveled. To make matters worse, I could hear something moving around upstairs. It was the exact same shriek that I had heard twice before that day, both times giving me some sort of warning towards what was coming next. The main difference this time though was that while before the noise was hollowed, despite the loud nature of the sound, it felt as if it was miles away…not this time. I slowly crept up the staircase which led to apartment door, hoping beyond hope that I could in the very least get a look at what was making the noise before I got into any confrontation. The door to our complex was ajar by about a foot which meant that whatever it was definitely in here, and in that moment I felt beads of sweat run down my face as I glanced over at my watch.

'_It's only nine-fifty, mom please be out right now…she has to be…she wouldn't stay here if she knew.' _For a minute or so my mind was racing as to where she could be; the reality of the situation was easier to think of but I couldn't tell myself she was hurt, or worse, unless I had proof. For all I knew she could have heard everything that was happening on the news and left the house to go and make sure I was safe, or perhaps she needed to see my father at work in order to ensure his safety, or anything else. My footsteps were kept to the edges of the hard, wooden floor to avoid making any unnecessary noise as I made my approach. To my surprise, the room itself looked fairly untouched in comparison to the rest of the apartment I had seen so far; there had been a chair or two knocked on its side, but other than that all was well. Furthermore, the sounds had seemed to dissipate and there had been no indication of danger anymore and it seemed that at long last a much needed calm had befallen my day. Taking a deep breath I took a quick look around but could not find any sign of my mother anywhere; it must have been ten minutes or so later that I remember just deciding to relax and try to think it all over, looking out the window to try and get a better view of things. But in that moment I made the biggest mistakes of my life, as while I looked out the window I let my worries and fears cloud my vision and made myself blind to anything and everything around me. The next thing I knew I felt a sharp, piercing pain run across my entire body as I was sent hurdling through the second story window.

It was if I had blacked out for a bit, but to put it very simply, when I came to again every muscle in my body hurt to move. Maybe it was because of the drop or it was possibly the pile of glass that was underneath me in the wake of the fall, but either way my body refused to comply as I feverishly tried to get up. I could hear something getting ever so close to me, and once I finally could get a good look at it, it was beyond words. Standing before me was a black mass of which I couldn't identify, it came up to my height but where most creatures would have legs or paws this things entire lower body was merely a blob of black liquid. In fact, the only part of it that had taken on a definite shape had been two arms, with a sword in hand, which jutted out from what had been nothingness. After what seemed like eternity I finally managed to get to my feet but I was by no means prepared for a fight, even by the standards of an eight year old kid. My knees were buckling and it was obvious that they wouldn't be capable of maintaining my weight for very long, and as a matter of fact they gave out just as the creature came closer for another attack. I was tired but at least I still had speed amongst my list of attributes, as I managed to avoid the brunt of his attack and merely was cut along the side of the arm.

A trail of crimson was now beginning to show through my shirt; with my other arm now applying as much pressure as I possibly could but to no avail. No matter that I had been able to evade his blow; the blade had been sharp enough to pierce deep enough into the skin to cause serious damage. Needless to say, I needed a more efficient strategy besides simply enduring his attacks until the opportune moment. Its arm arose once more, obviously readying itself to strike once again. My strength still hadn't returned to me, but I managed to slowly limp away one step at a time while still never taking my eyes off of the creature as it approached. Within seconds it lunged at me once more, this time I just managed to roll out of the way of its attack; however my arm, which now was bleeding rather profusely, was becoming an issue. The pain that went along with the blood loss was immense to say the least, but to make matters worse I began to feel lightheaded and it was becoming harder to stay focused. I took a few more steps back and my feet gave out once again as the whole world around me began to spin, my opponent now standing above me with his scabbard held high. In my head I continuously beckoned to get up, or in the very least get out of the way, but no matter how much I pleaded there was nothing left in me…or so I thought.

A sensation similar to a mix of nausea and tunnel-vision began to set in now, as well as a bit of weightlessness as I looked onward as if staring down at my own body. It appeared as if all was lost in that moment; my clothes were now almost entirely covered in my own blood, I myself was beyond exhausted and in no shape to defend myself. But it was then that I heard what sounded similar to the likes of a glass pane shattering resonate from behind me. The strangest part about the entire thing though was that with said sound, something had seemed to rise out from within me as I lay there below. At first there hadn't been any fine details and it only looked like some sort of white aura coming off of me, but within a minute or so it gradually took solid form and the entity looked directly at me. What stood before me, or rather hovered near me as if suspended in mid-air, was none other than a type of dragon or serpent with scales of the finest shades of orange and crimson. With a set of nails looking sharper than the deadliest dagger extending off of each hand, and eyes of a dark violet it stared at me as it began to speak.

"_I am Samael, the harbinger of thy victory. I will be your sword and shield for as long as you have strength. We shall walk side-by-side, for the two of us are two sides of the same coin. Fear not, and let me lend you my power…" _

I remember being barely able to breath at that precise moment, but I still was able to take a deep breath enough in order to fill my lungs and let out a solemn sigh of recognition. There had been a multitude of oddities happening to me that day, so even if I was still skeptical I had to entrust my future into this being's hands. As if my subtle gesture was a direct command it turned towards the creature from before, which had literally melted into a pile of liquefied harlequin ever since my newfound "friend" had entered the situation. Samael targeted it and within seconds a fog of indigo and purple descended upon rushed down upon it, at first merely surrounding it but later it caused the demonic being to vanish with a nothing more than a half-pronounced shriek. It was almost if whatever he had done erased it from existence, as nothing had been left behind when the dense air had subsided. I myself was honestly at a loss for words at that moment, not really understanding why any of this had been happening to me or what or earth type of creature I had just joined forces with. When I nodded in agreement to Samael that first time, I remember that his actions seemed as if they were directly in connection with me, like if he was in fact "my sword and shield" when I had been in a time of need. The world began to echo in what had appeared to an endless loop as the lightheadedness from before finally managed to catch up with me, and everything went dark.


	2. Velvet Room Blues

When I next awakened it was as if every muscle in my body had gone into an acute state of atrophy; my arms, legs, neck, shoulders, everything had seemed numb and I had only been able to start to regain feeling in the moments after I gained consciousness. At first it was my arms soon followed by my legs, and then shortly after that the rest of my body had begun to awake as well. At the time I never really thought that my eyes were still closed; however, all I could see was a thin coat of black blotting out my entire field of vision. It was almost as if my eyes had been open but someone had put a veil over my head, and as a result I could see well enough to know something was there but not be able to tell what exactly it was.

To complicate things further my eyelids themselves felt heavier than they had ever felt before, and this sensation mixed with an inability to focus made it seem as if I had just got out of a state of hibernation. Moments later a dim light began to shine and the once blackened room that I was in now could be seen in its full glory; it was a rather spacious room, nearing about twenty feet in either direction with very little décor present except for the most obvious…velvet as far as the eye could see. The walls, floors, and even the chair that I had awoken on were all covered in a shade of velvet that seemed to shout a posh, yet subdued atmosphere as if this place had been undisturbed by all else.

I slowly veered my head in all directions of the room to get a better understanding of my surroundings, and now with the room illuminated I could distinguish four very distinct individuals. One was a tall and slender man no older than my father had been with tremendously long hair, and laden in black as he sported a beanie, sweater and pants, on the far left of the room there stood two others who had been engrossed in performing a duet of sorts by a magnificent sounding grand piano, while the last was a rather short and stout man who had been sitting at the opposite end of the room and had been staring at me intently. His hands had been intertwined and were acting as a sort of support for his chin at the moment, about six inches above which a nose the size of a banana protruded.

Not to say anything harsh or cruel, but the man was just plain ugly by means of just not having a better adjective; that being said however, nothing about himself or the room he resided in gave off any sort of aura of deceit or malice. The man assisted me when I was lying on a dirty street facing death and transported me to a room where I managed to misplace my thoughts and worries, even if it was for just a few brief seconds. If anything, even though I was still perturbed by everything that happened I deserved to give him a chance.

I had been alert for quite some time when he first decided to speak up. His tone had been just as peculiar as everything else about him, as it embodied kindness, wisdom, as well as caution. His back straightened as best it could as he started to recite what I would come to know in the future as a rather uniform greeting for his humble abode. Each syllable flowed off of his lips as if he was some sort of prophet or Arab trader, informing an individual while still maintaining a loose understanding of "buyer beware."

It was at this point that I first noticed that among all of the other oddities we bore, the strangest may just have been that while he spoke to me his pupils increased tenfold and I swear it looked like his eyes were close to popping out of their very sockets. As he continued, the other thing I quickly recognized was how the other occupants of the room would act when this man spoke; for example, even though the others had their own agenda when I first came to they all stopped what they were doing to listen when he began addressing me. Even the woman who had been so engrossed in her singing by the piano had stopped to stare onward at him, and occasionally glance in my direction.

"_Welcome to the Velvet Room, this place exists between dream and reality…mind and matter. My name is Igor. Please forgive me for the silence, it is…unusual for us to have such a young guest in our midst. You are definitely a…peculiar case."_

_Peculiar case…_I thought to myself as soon as the words left his mouth, leaving me at a loss of anything to really say in response. My day had been utter torture that had never seemed to let up, followed by nearly everything around me either falling to pieces or trying to kill me. So yeah, had it been something you could arguably describe as peculiar? Sure, but that was definitely the understatement of the century right there. Each and every time I attempted to try and think, reason, or even plan out a strategy something had sullied the entire thing.

Now that it at long last felt like I could just sit and figure things out, I wanted to try and see what this man or anyone could tell me about what I had seen. My intention had been to do that, but Igor had bet me to it before I could even get a word in edgewise. I remember that when this had happened it was a lingering suspicion of mine that he had some sort of telepathic ability, despite the fact that he would constantly tell me otherwise.

"_I imagine you must have inquiries; the power of which you have recently awakened is called Persona. Think of it as a protector against harm, or even a cloak or mask you wear when dealing with difficult stressors. We all have or different facets of ourselves; however, only a select few have the power to control it. You dear boy, are a very, very special case indeed. For you are at such a young age and yet to awakened to such a strong Persona, but that also don't seem to be tied to one type of Persona either…which makes you a wild card."_

My jaw had dropped nearly halfway through his speech as each word was starting to make less and less sense to me as he went along. What I could grasp at the time, was that for some reason I was special because I was capable of summoning some sort of creature from inside me. What exactly was it? That part I still didn't know, nor did I really understand the part about him telling me on the inside I was a million different creatures which only came out if the circumstances were right. But, there wasn't really much use in arguing with the lot of it, was there?

The tone of his voice had seemed to show a hint of surprise and just a pinch of pride as well as he went on about my abilities and how they had differed from others. Taking that into consideration though, each time he would there would be a split second where he would pause and look away from me before quickly changing the subject…just like my father had done. The mention of him was enough to have me sitting at attention in my chair as I began to scan around the room again, Igor obviously taking notice of my behavior.

"_Your thoughts dwell on someone close to you, your parents I trust? I'm sorry, it is not my intention to discourage others but you will not find them here. But do not fret over them, for we all are delivered onto the grave equally when the time comes. It is one's mortality that defines us, as the stories told by the loved ones of the dearly departed are what keep them alive."_

"_You're lying…their not dead. I…how would you know? I need to find them, I…I promised them." _

His words, however true they may have been at the time, cut through me like a serrated edge to the flesh; my mind was racing at the very mention of death itself, let alone the implication that my parents were just to be forgotten. His expression didn't falter despite the fact that he obviously could tell how I had felt, as if my question had already been answered and his duty was to merely get me up to date. Aside Igor the man in black, who I had discovered had been painting upon a standing canvas up until this point, had stopped to almost glare at him.

He was both metaphorically and literally biting his lip; in a pose that seemed to denote a sort of disbelief in the tone that his fellow roommate had been displaying, it was clear as day that harsh words were lying behind his gritted teeth. Placing the paintbrush that he had been previously utilizing aside, he took a few steps towards Igor and cleared his throat to make sure that his presence was known to the long-nosed man.

"_You know there is one way that we could show the boy, prove that he doesn't have to look for them. A journey is fruitless if you cannot accept change. Yourself you know to be true Igor."_

Igor had not expected to see him say what he did, and it showed in his eyes as he threw a fierce glare his way before getting up from his chair and speaking directly into the man's ear. His voice was then reduced to a nearly inaudible whisper as they continued on with conversation, only stopping to occasionally look my way to see that I was still where they had last seen me. A minute or so later they were still at it, and I felt a warm hand be placed on the tip of my shoulder blade. Shocked, I looked up to see that it was the woman from before who had been singing; I could tell much finer details now that she was so close and that to say she was beautiful would be a gross understatement.

She adorned a dress that had raised shoulders and came down to the floor by a measure of an inch or so, which had been dyed to match the rest of the room. Her face had been without any make-up but yet her compaction had been as clear as day, with the only augmentation being that a thick coat of velvet lipstick and eye-liner which lay just below both of her eyebrows. Her hair arched backwards in a way that seemed to match that of a water droplet and was also velvet save for a streak of white going dead center throughout. It all was so elegant and extravagant that she hadn't really fit in with anything that I had ever seen before, like she was merely out of place with all existence except for in this one particular room. Noticing my own silence, she broke the doldrums with a voice that was so smooth and yet sultry that it would cause a siren to be envious.

"_Your heart is pure, but yet you do not seem to be ready to except fate. That worries me greatly for your future. The change of the seasons is like that of the soul, we must always allow an ending of one to begin another. I am Belladonna, and I sing of the tragedies and beauty of the soul. In our destinies, we all receive the right to sing of something of our own choosing, within reason. The most important question, my dear, is for what do you wish to sing?"_

A stray tear ran down the length of my right check as the reality of it all finally hit me; they were never trying to deceive me or even be mean towards me, but were just trying to make me see the truth behind it all…that my parents were dead. Perhaps Igor had done that in a bit of a poor way, or maybe my young had heart had overreacted to him having to be as blunt as he had been. I know now that the situation had required me to be able to move on past what I had thought had become of them, because of what "fate" had supposedly in store for me.

Steady sobs then set in as Belladonna patted my back ever so gently and started on a new song, different then the one she had been humming to herself earlier. It had told the tale of a man who had came into this room and lost far more than he ever felt he deserved and for this he wept; some time later the song came to an end with the thought that this person had gone through such an ordeal for an almost divine purpose. For as he cried it relieved countless others of having to endure a similar fate, and within that realization this individual found an ideology in his own deeply-agonizing sorrow that he could hold onto.

The sorrow of the man without what he held closest was a mirror image to mine, except that for his resolution. While he had taken all that happened and made it into strength of which he could cherish, what could I do with the shambled remains of my life? How could I ever just move past today and go on with tomorrow as if nothing happened? The tears had stopped, but it didn't mean that the tightness in my chest had subsided; it was like my body had found a sort of peace, if only in the weakest of measures. Wiping off my eyelids with the outer edge of my forearm I looked back to see that Igor had once again taken his throne and had been staring at me apprehensively.

His companion from before now came towards me with brush in hand and a small piece of what appeared to be old-age parchment paper. There had been a small table closest to Igor that he had pulled aside and carried over with him as well, eventually setting it down next to me as well as the brush and paper. For just a brief moment I studied him curiously to see what he was trying to accomplish, but my question had quickly been answered as he made a quick and jagged stroke across the papers center. Oddly enough, when the instrument's bristles began to make contact a vibrant green could be seen cascading down from where he had made his mark…despite the fact that there was no paint on it.

"_I am known as the Demon Painter, I draw the demons and gods which reside within all of humanity. My friend would not be thrilled for me showing you this, but if you so choose I can show you your parents. It would not be seeing them exactly, but rather their last moments and memories. Think of such a thing as closure; however, I must forewarn that you must accept the pain and truth that comes with what you see…no matter what." _


	3. A Link to the Past

"_No matter what…" _Even then those words were laced with a sense of coy caution behind his welcoming and generous tone, as if he had been literally handing me a loaded gun by offering me this opportunity. It was even more evident in Igor's eyes as they strayed away from mine, yet now it was the first time I had ever understood his reasoning for such. His whispers from before were most likely about his fear of such a small boy actually having to see his parents own demise; it wasn't the same as just knowing they wouldn't be coming back.

From the little I had heard of the process I could assume that this would show me their lives in the end of it all, and maybe even make it be as if I was truly there. Every little nuance would be shown to me without any filter or method of abridging the truth in the event of my own unpreparedness; no one was going to hold my hand. I swallowed deep and nodded my head in agreement, as while it hadn't been an easy decision I knew I needed to take the chance to at least say goodbye one last time in my own way. Although they were probably as good as dead and buried it would be enough to know what they would wish of me.

Making a few more stray marks onto the once blank canvas, I could begin to predict what the painter had laid out for me to see in the shape of a very rough cityscape outline. Some of the buildings weren't exactly a picture perfect match and the scale wasn't entirely up to snuff, but none the less I'd have to be blind not to recognize the sight of my home at sunset. There had only been a few instances where the sun had been cast down upon it in such a vibrant shade of orange and maroon, most of which were often treated as a cause for celebration as it ushered in the seasonal equinoxes, but each one was enough to make someone fall in love with the city of Lunarvale. With the utmost precision he added a trio of diagonal strokes next, now adding a focal point to the painting of which he was now focusing the majority of his attention.

A building now stood in plain view, with a thick film of what looked like smoke now obscuring the rest of the city, a series of gold-plated characters shimmering on the rooftop due to the sun's rays. The initials _S.E.B.E.C _shimmer posthumously down upon the city, and without much further detail it was all as clear as day: it was my father's workplace. Of course he had only taken me there once in my life, and never again because of the reprimand he received shortly after, but there was something about the ominous tone of strength and security that the building had given off without any real effort that one could never forget.

Six more striations were made across once more, this time limiting my view towards the ground level as a sort of quarantine was being set up all around the area. Below I saw a crowd of people amassing as they protested and hoped to try and reach the other side of the city. Outside of the S.E.B.E.C. building was where I first saw my father, a rather slender man with a brown pea coat covering most of his upper body, angrily discussing something with what looked to be one of his co-workers. The men in question, both looking like they had obviously woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning with their hair amiss and deep, dark circles under their eyes, huffed at my father every time he spoke.

From what I could see he had been trying to enter the building to go upstairs and get started with the days work; however, these men supposedly were vehemently apposed to the idea. There wasn't much anger or aggression usually in his voice, even if he was stressed to capacity because of his job. With a dreaded fog descending upon the area and the large amounts of people already in a panic trying to leave the city limits, it was safe to say that what I had witnessed was only the aftermath of it all.

"_Look, I don't give a damn what you are, we have our own orders. All personnel are to help in the quarantine of the city and to aid in sealing off any areas of potential threat. That includes YOU. Now, if you value your job, get moving and start pushing these people back before things get any uglier than they already are."_

The annoyed voices of the S.E.B.E.C officials chimed together in a bitter unison as they barked their orders to my father, who then gruffly obliged as he started to assist the other officers present in keeping the citizens back. It soon became customary for the crowd to call out to him "why are you doing this" in a saddened and harmonized tone that was clearly just trying to seek shelter from the storm. A storm had been the perfect analogy for it, as many of them looked to be shaken up and a few of them had deep, almost grave wounds as if some creature had attacked them. Apparently the lot of them went through something familiar as well, seeing as there had also been some who had serious burn marks across their person and some even claimed to be attacked by something which had shot ice and electricity to boot.

Obviously I knew what these people had been referring to, even if in some ways their accounts differed what did cross over was more than enough for me to dispel any and all doubt. It wasn't a proud moment for him, having to restrain these people knowing that they weren't the real danger, and he himself often told the somnolent masses just that. Despite the lines of authority and rank that stood between them, he leveled with them to make them understand best he could, if for nothing more than to merely gain their trust.

He did this for some time before he reached into his pocket and felt the heavy, metal mass that was his cell phone pressing up against his thigh. With this realization fresh on his thoughts, my father then briefly told one of the others that he would be just a moment and that he needed to make a quick phone call before returning. Making a block or so trek into a nearby alley, it was here that the over encumbering noise of the crowd ceased, allowing oneself the ability to hear ones own thoughts and for him to make the call.

The reception had been down at this time, disabling his chances of getting any signal out; however, he persisted none the less and eventually was able to get through as my mothers muffled voice could be heard coming from the other end. Most of the words I couldn't make out, but she sounded about as worried as I had been when I first raced home; incoherently having her voice crack as she repeatedly told my father to come home and just forget about work. His voice then fell to a whisper as he started to mutter words of encouragement into her ear in an effort to calm her down as she had been on the verge of tears.

"_Don't worry; I only work until six tonight alright? Just stay there until Yokiero gets home from school, hopefully we can get all this straightened out before he has to be dragged into this. I've got no idea what's happening out here but…I don't like the look of it. Supposedly there's some kind of animal one the loose or something, I don't know. Just stay inside, okay? I love you."_

A solemn reply echoed back through the phone's speaker before he finally turned his phone off and safely set it back in his pants pocket; all of this had been done while unbeknownst that the two men from before had entered the alleyway and now were blocking the only way out. Taking another look at the duo, something then clicked in his mind that he hadn't before taken a note of due to just simply being focused on getting to work and starting his tasks for the day. What had become obvious to him was that these men, in fact, did not work for S.E.B.E.C., never had, and yet for some reason were corralling people at the city limits in the guise of said organization. One of the men hastily grabbed what looked like some sort of pill out of his pocket and ingested it before continuing closer.

Arching his back in such a posture that would give leverage for him to make an escape from the alley if need be, my father continued to quizzically survey the two. They were right in front of him now and began to section off the last available route, in doing so trapping him in the now darkened street corner. With their eyes fixed on him, their unexpectedly blood red eyes which seemed almost too menacing to stare at for any prolonged period of time, at that moment the other man began to speak once more. This time however, something was obviously different than the last, as his tone sounded much harsher and was alike something speaking through him.

"_You really are gullible, aren't you? Persistent, stubborn, even proud of your profession, but a dolt above all else, wouldn't you agree? You know, it's people like yourself that I just so happen to find rather insulting. You live amongst us with the knowledge that we do, yet you may never obtain the potential enough to use it."_

The voice that had resonated came from the general direction of the men, but never actually from either of them. It actually had come from a bodiless aura of pink that was beginning to almost radiate off of his skin; it was then that I remember I had become utterly dumbfounded and my mouth completely agape at the sight. To me, this was the very first time that I would ever see another man such as myself, another whom could actually summon these personas. Much alike with my own awakening that day, the thick impression that had hung above the air like a ghostly silhouette soon manifested itself into a final form.

His ability had been my own but the similarities would seem to end there, as in appearance his persona had taken on a far more gruesome and obscure shape than mine. It looked almost like a marionette, although this one had lost a great deal of its wires and now merely flailed its arms about without any real rhyme or reason. The eyes had faired about the same as they hung out with only a small amount of thread holding them in their respective sockets, and with this it gave the effect that the eyes were looking everywhere at once in a wild frenzy. In the surprise that he must have been feeling, my father reached for a small gun that had been holstered to his side; however, anticipating this the man's persona cast its arm outwards towards him and a serrated blade made a diagonal swath across his abdomen.

With a loud thud he fell, with his only means of defense being sent in the opposite direction and a pool of his own innards slowly seeping out of his gaping flesh wound. The attacker rushed towards my father and kicked the gun completely out of his way before silently kneeling down beside him, as if he was a friend giving a solemn sign of respect rather than a hunter observing his prey in their waning seconds. The light that had once stood so prominently in his eyes began to fade and being fully aware of this the man took my father's hand in his. His partner who had been remaining mostly reserved throughout this encounter now followed suite before speaking for the first time.

"_What are you waiting for? You know his persona isn't going to be of any use to us if he dies?"_ He chastised, with this causing a slight nod from his counterpart in retort.

"_Wait…I…I don't…I don't understand. Why are you…doing this?"_ My father wheezed with about as much strength as he could muster, the iron-heavy taste of crimson now coming up from the bottom of his throat. Over and over again he asked that same question to them, the last few attempts he reverted to nearly screaming at the top of his lungs despite the heaviness that his body began to feel throughout. The first man tightened his grip on his hand and now summoned forth his persona once again, while the other now began to look away in somewhat of disgust over what he was about to witness if he did not avert his eyes.

A mind-numbingly high-pitched sound could be heard accompanied by the presence of a blindingly bright white light, and the painting slowly deteriorated before my eyes as if time itself had taken its toll. There had been no tears, no shriek of utter terror, or no unsteady or jerky movements from by arms or legs, my entire being had become entirely innate as I stood there after what I had just observed. The soft melody of Belladonna matched with the steady piano playing made me gradually come back down to reality, or at least what I was able to make of it, as I took a deep breath and glanced back at Igor. He stood right behind me and held out one hand towards mine, and with it offered a small piece of paper which resembled a playing card to me.

It bore the shades of white and a radiant bluish violet; besides that it was a rather plain card, but there were two major inscriptions that caught had caught my eye. The first being that in the background there had been what appeared to be a great door which had a set of stairs leading up to it, as well as a grayish checkered pattern on all sides of it. Secondly, and by far the most pertinent of anything on the card, was the picture of a large skull which had been placed dead center on the door itself.

"_It has been a while since we have had a guest, but yet…it has been even longer still since we have had such a youthful one such as yourself. But even then we have never seen one so young awaken to this arcane. That of death itself is one of the ends of all things in order to bring about the beginning of another. My sympathies are with you…but lest we forget that you have signed a contract…to accept the responsibilities of your actions. It is not of our concern how you choose to spend your energy and time, but there shall be a time when fate shall expect something of you. _

_If you were to pursue the men behind your parent's demise, it could possibly veer you off-course of your own journey. Knowing what you do now, perhaps the question shall be not whether or not you may do what is necessary, but instead will you when the time comes. 'Til we meet again." _


	4. Of Cookies and Caretakers

When I woke up nothing of my scenery had really changed, and I lay in witness to the barren wastes that had transmogrified from what had initially been my home. It took some time in order for an ambulance to start going from place to place and survey the areas in search of the injured and homeless, which left me to my thoughts as I tried desperately not to dwell on my probable dislocated arm. While sitting the sun would rise and fall several times in a rather unnatural silence, as if the entire world had been filtered to only allow nature itself to speak. There were many things I had thought about in the long time of which I spent there; some of these being that of Igor's words, sometimes even pondering how or what they were doing, and then eventually my thoughts drifted to what was going to happen to me now that I was alone.

If memory serves it was the third day which marked when the people in charge of Rescue Assistance had finally reached my location, and had ever so kindly helped me into a vehicle which had transported me to a nearby hospital. Within the next week I had my arm popped back into place, was given a very luxurious bed with which to rest, and lastly was treated to an unexpected visitor near the end of my stay. It had been a member of something called child services who had claimed they knew what had happened, and were going to have to send me elsewhere to live now that my home was far from a suitable environment for someone my age.

Her name had been Penny Arthelen, a rather boisterous individual in her mid thirties who came from America to attend school, and had tried to open up with me about herself in order to better aid me in moving on from all that had happened. We talked for awhile about everything and anything really, as she would come in each and every day just to ask how I was doing and whether or not I needed anything. It was on the fifth day that she came in to see me that her face gleamed with a sort of joyful adolescence, informing me that someone had heard of what I went through and they had officially began to do the necessary paperwork in order to become my legal guardian.

At the time I had been thrilled, but part of me was still hesitant to really put my feet too deep into anything, as no matter how much these people cared I worried that they would try to replace my departed parents. Looking back it seems silly to think about it in such a way, but actually it has some merit in the eyes of a child; with us we very rarely have worries that would be reciprocated by others twenty or so years our senior. When we lose something that is so precious to us, we often misinterpret the world's advice of "moving on" as forgetting what happened and even who we lost. How wrong we are.

Some time after I at long last was checked out of the hospital and treated for my wounds, Penny had picked me up and taken both of us to an airport that hadn't been too far outside of the Lunarvale city limits. Whoever had chosen to take me in had finalized the paperwork needed and so I was to officially pack up my belongings, once again leaving one city behind in favor of another. The quarantine was starting to lift and so she had told me that it would help if I was to have one last look at the city, and leave with a chance to say my goodbyes if I so desired. Mentally there was a great deal of which my heart still needed to say, and did, but to anyone else I did nothing but stare out at the still disheveled cityscape in fixation.

Upon boarding the plane, she had turned to me and began to fill me in on who these people were and gave me some general knowledge of the area. This time I wouldn't be going to any large city, but rather staying in a small region that practically a chain of islands that anything else. From inside a manila folder that she had tightly clasped for most of the morning, Penny handed me several pictures of the area as well as of my new caretakers to boot. In terms of the area it had been nothing short of breathtaking in its own special way, with everything from the people on the photographs to the weather seeming so cozy in its isolation.

On the other hand, much could be also said about the people as well. The two had been an elderly couple, in their early to mid seventies from what I had been told; with the man having short, white hair and in the picture he could be seen holding a small pipe and wearing a pair of navy pants accompanied by a white sweater with red and blue zigzags going across the front. His expression was one of wisdom and empathy, but yet also was thickly laced with ware as if he had weathered the fiercest of storms in his lifetime. The man's wife had been about the same age as him, and was seemingly just as sweet and innocent as he had been.

"_What do they do?"_ I questioned, as in the picture the two of them could only be seen reading a book and working on a small plant respectively.

"_Well, they're retired at the moment, so they don't really have a job per say. But I'm sure you'll find out a lot out about them once you meet them in person."_ She exclaimed in the same animated and hopeful tone she always had.

We spent the remainder of the flight in silence for what had been the very first time since the two of us had met each other, my eyes focused primarily on what lay beyond the window aside of me. Three hours, that was how long the plane had taken in getting us to my new residence; that was the length of time with which I had to be alone with my thoughts once more. Ever since penny entering my life she had always touted that no one my age should be as quiet as I was, and frequently sparked conversation with me as a result. Given my current situation she most likely left me be in order to better collect myself when the lot of us first met.

There wasn't any real assemblence of order with what came to my mind, save for one single lingering notion that had only just then popped into my conscience. Halfway through our journey I had looked over at my companion who had been looking through a sort of daily planner, and realized that the date was November 12th. Amidst everything that had transpired of late, even I had admittedly forgotten about my own birthday. At first there was the suspicion that Penny should have been responsible enough to say something; however, I quickly dismissed these claim as she hadn't known me for very long.

"_Happy birthday…"_ I whispered at a nearly inaudible volume.

My body's movements becoming labored and my eyes heavy, sleep slowly took a hold over me as I nestled back into my not so comfortable seat. When I next awoke it would be to the mechanical voice of the captain telling us via the intercom that we were at long last on route. Soon after the plane made its way down the landing strip, coming to a slow crawl as everyone began to take a hold of their belongings and disperse into the adjacent airport. Inside it was a complete madhouse, with hordes of civilians going to and from and enough people walking around with visible jetlag that you'd think it was contagious.

We left the airport and grabbed a taxi, who had become rather agitated with us both when he heard that we would be heading to the entire other side of town. Where the couple had lived was a small place near a busy shopping district, and from the picture it looked more as if they themselves lived within one of the stores of said district. It was getting dark by the time we finally arrived, with our cabbie grumbling all the while he took his pay and drove the other direction in a huff. Looking at there place in person I could tell that their home had in fact been a store previously; with the rest of the buildings it had been attached to all being a sort of strip mall advertising anything from food to jewelry.

Whoever was in the house must have seen us pull up as a light had shown on the second floor, and a mixture of creaking floorboards and gentle whispers began to reach our ears. Within moments the noise came rushing towards the front door, and after a rustling of what might have been keys the door swung open. Revealed to us then was the sight of a clearly tired and confused older gentleman who had been dressed as if he had just awoke from a nap, matching the description of the man I had seen on the photo earlier. Despite several lights being turned on inside he still had been squinting to make a clear picture of who had been waiting outside his humble abode. Ringing his hands through his hair in a hastily manner he tried to straighten up his locks before he addressed the two of us, starting with my then caretaker.

"_Is that you Ms. Arthelen? Well, we definitely weren't expecting you until at least eight or nine 'o clock. You must have had an early flight. I see you brought the youngster, nice to meet you son."_ He squawked as he motioned for the two of us to enter.

"_Well Mr. Kitamura, it's already eight now. I know that it is a bit darker than I thought it was going to be when we got here. Hope that we didn't wake you."_ She murmured back to him, almost in disbelief that he had forgotten the time.

"_Oh nonsense, I wasn't sleeping…just resting my eye that's all. Oh, you can call me Bunkichi by the way; Mitsuko and I have been expecting you."_ Bunkichi muttered as he closed the front door before stumbling away from us and proceeded further into the house.

The interior seemed to be a sort of minimalist type of esthetic, as the majority of the first floor was in plan view and yet there hadn't been much to see; a small kitchen was in the back, with an even smaller television not far off and the only piece of furniture being a ragged and stained couch. It all seemed to be so underplayed, with nothing really popping out at you as you would enter the room, but yet in a way that was the beauty of the place that I couldn't make out before from just a few pictures. For them the few items that they had were enough, and they had found a joyous and profound pride for their household because it was theirs, not because of what they could put within it.

Back in the kitchen had been a woman of miniature stature, who must have stood no taller than four foot, and had been working the oven seemingly in expectance of our coming. Her face had been wrinkled and weary in a way, but yet all the same there had been a sort of kindness she would exude that could rival any patron saint. As Bunkichi had referred to her moments ago, her name had been Mitsuko and she had been the elder man's wife. As we had just crossed over the threshold and into the place, she spoke to us in a voice that was so softhearted and worried that it had seemed as if she already had been concerned of our welfare, even if there hadn't been a need to be.

"_Oh dear, thank goodness you came. It was getting dark out and we were starting to think that your flight been delayed or something, you know how those silly things are. We were so worried." _She cooed as she approached us with a small platter of cookies clutched in her right hand.

"_It's true, we were grief stricken."_ He grumbled with a full mouth after snatching one of the cookies from the plate and seemingly trying to swallow it whole.

"_Oh hush, you were sleeping the whole time, real worried you were…"_ She retorted.

"_Now who said I can't worry about the boy in my sleep? Sometimes in your sleep is the best place to worry. You don't know what I dream about."_ Bunkichi chastised as he began to wipe some stray crumbs off of his clothing.

Taking a bite of the baked good I found myself doing something that I hadn't for quite some time, as unbeknownst to me at that specific moment I smiled. Whenever Penny spoke to me and it was expected that I should respond, it was often just a custom of mine to merely tell her what she wanted to hear and then revert back to my own subconscious level of thought. Whatever it was that was said, there wasn't a real meaning or reason behind any of it, and part of what was the cause of this was a general emotional numbness since that time. But inside the confines of these jovial individuals, who it seemed could do no wrong nor could have any wrong be done to them, I could feel warmth.

My shoulders relaxed again with each second that I could hear the loving bickering between the two of them. They would continue to carry on for a few minutes more before Penny interrupted them to ask that they sign off on a few last documents before she had to say her goodbyes. She told me before leaving that she would still be in town for the next couple days, just as a precaution in case something didn't work out with my new situation. After that the two of them merely told me to get some sleep as it was late and that the next day I would already have to attend school, saying that the students had just come off break and that they had wished for me to have a smooth transition by coming back the same day as everyone else.

Displeased with having to wake up early, yet still accepting it with a bit more hopeful of an attitude I was soon after lead upstairs. There they showed a small guestroom where I could move my things, even if I hadn't brought much with me onto the flight over. Like the rest it wasn't much but it was the thought that mattered; a small cot that I could sleep in with a set of plain white pillows and sheets covering it, as well as a small wooden dresser to keep my clothes and an aged brown rug at my feet. Thanking them for their hospitality I said goodnight to them as I continued to settle into my new surroundings as the clock nearly struck eleven. It felt as if there would be a long day awaiting me when I did in fact awaken the next morning, and I so I nestled into bed and the newfound silence of Port Island engulf me whole.


	5. An Explanation

Well, I guess three months without an update is time enough to say that I've gone on a hiatus; however, I wouldn't go as far as to say that my story has died on me. I actually have just gone through a few rough months, with my old laptop dying on me I was forced to be without a means to write for about a month or so. When I could manage to jot something down, it never really came out the way I would have liked and I began to stray from my Persona story and the interest waned for quite some time, and in reality has only come back recently. There had been so much time spent trying to have a chapter biweekly, a chapter weekly, and then finally it was as if the output on my end would need to be daily in order to appease the masses here on FF seeing as they tended to enjoy my work. Needless to say with any more scrupulous of details, I was more or less burned out. Never fear! There were still endless amounts of wondrous stories on this site, as I always knew there would be. I hope that you, the reader of this story, accept my sincerest of apologies and continue to inform me of anything I am doing wrong with my writing in the future. A chapter is going to be uploaded probably within the next week at the absolute latest.


	6. School Days Part 1

"_No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee."  
__**-John Donne**_

That next morning the sun rose anew; and while it didn't seem at all different than usual, an otherworldly aura of hope hung over the area. Graciously awoken by the looming smell of baked goods, I came down stairs moments later to bear witness to a variety of culinary convections. My newly appointed parental duo were already up and about by the time I had reached the kitchen, the clock signaling the time between then and the start of my first school day was fleeting. There were only a few words spoken that morning, as the three of us were all preoccupied by matters of our own accord; save for Bunkichi that is, who had rather quickly succumb to the temptation of slumber.

Thanking them for the food I made my way out of the front door and began my trek elsewhere. Unlike my old home wherein I could just as easily walk to school as I could raise my left finger, here I was given no other option but to traverse miles of sidewalk and board a public tram in order to find my way to school. Mitsuko had been kind enough to give me some lemon bread for lunch as well as some money so I could pay for the ticket, which as I would soon discover was far more expensive than I had previously anticipated. From corner to corner the lot of us, both everyday working saps and people on their way to and from alike, were shoved and placed into an elongated shaft that had reached its maximum capacity long before we had arrived.

If you ever were suffering from a case of claustrophobia than you must try your damndest to experience something along the likes of public transportation, for it is as much of a cure as you shall ever find for the ailment. A rare and uncomfortable venture, with people you really don't have a clue about, with some of said individuals being such for good reason, being within arm's reach of you. The plus side to all of this however, is the fact of the matter being that here is where it becomes ever so increasingly difficult to stand out in any real way. In the bright lights and darkened allies of Lunarvale a kid on the streets at the wrong time usually meant that all eyes were trained onto you, but here people seemed to have more relevant things to contend with. The only exception to this had been one older woman who had looked at me and smiled wholeheartedly and had even gone as far as offering me her seat, to which I respectfully declined as I saw the deeply developed wrinkles under her eyes that had looking to be manifesting for a decade or so.

Twenty minutes later and the low, gentle hum of the tram's engine sputtered and the vehicle came to a crawl before stopping completely, a monotone voice sounding over the loud-speaker that I had reached my destination. A short hop, skip, and a jump later and a large rod-iron gate greeted me; despite the fact that I knew very well where I was, as the engraved penmanship stating "Gekkoukan High School" stood me square me in the face, much of what I saw hardly resembled a typical school. The building itself was a towering figure of brick and mortar and glistened vibrantly as the sun shone downward and almost seemed to blind the senses of all else, an eerie aura of disembodied dread and indistinguishable power radiating off of it. For a brief moment my body constricted and held its position,


End file.
